


loneliness

by minimalcoloration



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Angst, F/M, Onesided Love, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 10:49:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14893211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minimalcoloration/pseuds/minimalcoloration
Summary: He sits and watches the contentment on their face like a moth drawn to a flame.





	loneliness

The aching feeling that bubbles in his chest isn’t a new feeling. It’s hollow, slithers around his heart and tightens like a coil and threatens to kill him right then and there, it feels like oil sits in his lungs and turns every even breath into a chore. He’s numb to the feeling he realizes after the grip on the hilt of his sheathed sword relaxes in defeat, but being numb doesn’t meant you can’t feel the weight, and he thinks he can deal with it this time. It’s a lie, he’ll never be able to deal with it- he’s been trying for years to deal with the first time but it never happens- and swallows his heart back into it’s place. It feels like death, but he knows he’s the one dying this time, and it drops his body temperature until he can’t feel his fingers (really though it’s the grip on Fólkvangr that’s done that and he knows.) 

The stones beneath his feet feel like ice, and when he gazes out into the gardens- searching desperately for something that never belonged to him- he feels glued to it. It’s not as bad as the first time, he thinks, as the sun filters though various columns before it dissipates at his feet. Fading laughter seeps through the warm quiet and tenses him up, the coil around his heart tightens and he tries to take a deep breath in without crying.

 

* * *

 

“You never talk to anyone else.” Kiran says, book in lap, curiously watching the flame from their candle dance around its wick. Alfonse pauses- but he was never reading to begin with- and glances up. Even though their gaze isn’t on him he knows they expect an answer, but when he sees the serene quiet that surrounds them he’s feeling worse than ever before.

“I talk to Sharena.” He says as he waits for them to turn around, if not just to have an excuse to keep looking at them far away from the map littered with points of assault, but they don’t. Kiran laughs instead, and he feels like the world melts from around them so it’s just the flicker of the flame and the flutter of his heart.

“That’s not what I mean.” They shift, smiling as they turn their attention to him, abandoning the flame dancing to the mercy of the gentle breeze that rolls in from the slightly parted window beside them. There’s nothing but kindness that makes his cold ears warmer and flushes his cheeks. 

“I _do_ talk to people though.” Alfonse responds, pushing the smile that wants to rise far, far into the back of his mind. He doesn’t want it, or any of the feelings that swell up when Kiran quirks their eyebrow and returns their gaze back to the pages of a book he doesn’t remember the name of anymore. It was bad, horrendously so, and the rational part of him reminds him of the feeling of abandonment that settles itself in the pit of his stomach and makes him want to go back to his room. He doesn’t though; he sits and watches the contentment on their face like a moth drawn to a flame.

 

* * *

 

Part of him wants to interrupt, an itch in the back of his mind that drives him crazy in the dull silence that surrounds him, to replace whoever has them in their arms, to finally have someone _stay._ It burns the back of his throat and he tries to swallow it down like he’s done with every other bad feeling to no avail. It feels like shit when his mind brings up images of them doing all the things he wishes he had the chance to, stargazing in the warm summer nights, sleepy nights where the only sound is the sound of their heartbeats, trips to the markets where they walk hand in hand- fantasies that reach far beyond friendship and cross a line he’s never wanted to cross in a long while. He doesn’t know whether to feel angry or sad, but he knows it’s at himself for being a fool.

Maybe, if he trains hard enough, he can forget what this weight feels like (it didn’t work the first time,) or maybe he can forget his emotions all together. The hand resting on Fólkvangr’s hilt releases its hold as he makes an attempt to move far away from the feelings that nip at lungs when he breathes.

 

* * *

 

 

“Aren’t you ever lonely?” Startled, Alfonse turns his body to meet Kiran’s concerned expression. They make their way over to the bench he’s seated at and wait until he pats the spot next to him to sit.

“No.” Alfonse lies, trying not to focus on their intense gaze instead of the colorful flowers that surround them. There’s nothing interesting there for him, but he finds it less embarrassing than Kiran seeing the way he remains flushed when they lean over.

“That sounds fake.” There’s humor in their voice and even though he doesn’t find anything funny about his situation, he finds he adores the way that their voice lilts. 

“It’s not, I can assure you.” Please leave, he wants to say (please stay is what his _heart_ wants to say) and wishes that Kiran would at least get a hint.

“Are you upset with me?” Alfonse whips his head around, nearly hitting Kiran face first (saved only by Kiran’s mildly effective reflexes,) mouth wide open. 

“Of course not!” He doesn’t appreciate the way his voice cracks just a tiny bit and it doesn’t help that he’s stammered out incoherent nonsense as he was turning, embarrassment making him want to withdraw like a turtle. How could they possibly think that? He could never be upset with them (because he’s spending all of his time being upset with himself) when they’re nothing but a light in his life? He doesn’t say any of it, and just settles on opening and closing his mouth a couple of times to look even worse than he already does. Right then and there, Alfonse decides he’s ready to die, and mentally prepares himself for the laughter that will follow his shame for sure.

It never comes.

Kiran takes his hand (and he definitely cannot hide the darkening of his blush even if he masqueraded as a tomato) and smiles so earnestly; so kind that it frees the butterflies in his stomach.  A fool, he calls himself as he restrains himself from threading his fingers through theirs, this will only end in pain. The sun shines on Kiran like a heavenly light, and he feels nothing but blessed by the highest of gods.

“I could never be upset at you.” He breathes, hoping that maybe they’ll catch what he means, praying that they’ll lean in just a bit more so he’s barely close enough to do the same.

Kiran backs away, smiling. His heart sinks.

 

* * *

 

The burning in his arms increases the more he hits the dummy, and with each swing it replaces another piece of his heart until there’s nothing left but bad ideas and forlorn love. It’s a burning that he welcomes to consume him whole, that maybe just this once something works out right for him, maybe he’ll have some sort of peace at the end of all of this. One by one, over and over, he knows that it’s not like him; that he should be careful (but the only careful his mind is registering his is friend dying,) he’s the prince he can’t falter now (but he’s been faltering for a while now,) but he was never really living up to that title anyway. 

Alfonse doesn’t stop until the sword slips out of his hands as he falls on his knees. It never works. 

Time and time again he’s proven right, that kindness only ends in pain, and he clutches his sore arms alone in the dying quiet of his heart. One by one, he watches the tears with pitiful resignation, curled over his own arms as his sword lies beside the wounded dummy. The hurt rises up until it’s bile in his throat and he feels like he’s seen death all over again. In the depths of his loneliness he tries to swallow every single sob that comes out, until it numbs the wounds.

It’s fine as long as they’re happy, he says to himself (he lies again.)

**Author's Note:**

> i said i wouldnt post this here but i read it over and deemed it satisfactory lol
> 
> @drivedef


End file.
